


Breathe in...if you can.

by Webtrinsic



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Car Accidents, Choking, Gun Violence, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Avengers, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, breathing tube, punctured lung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 06:45:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15943937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Webtrinsic/pseuds/Webtrinsic
Summary: It takes just the one bullet to take his breath away.





	Breathe in...if you can.

May had passed away two months ago, she’d gotten sick at work and hadn’t recovered. There had been nothing anyone could do, not even Tony’s lofty connections and medical team could do anything. Tony had taken him in and was currently waiting in his very expensive car in front of the school waiting to pick him up. Peter jogged down the steps, a distinct feeling of being watched keeping him on edge.

He didn’t stop to say bye to Ned, just rushed into the car’s passenger seat. Tony smiled softly, “Hey kiddo,”

“Hey Tony,” Peter returned, figuring it was only the people at school wondering why him? Peter Parker, was getting into a priceless Audi.

“How was school? That Flash kid give you any trouble?” Tony looked over his shoulder, pulling out of the parking spot before heading back to the compound, wheel effortlessly turning in his hands.

“No, it was just boring I guess,” Peter yawned, all they’d done was watch movies due to having substitutes, there was a major teacher conference today so almost no teachers were actually teaching.

“I was thinking tonight we go out and get something to eat,” Tony looked over at the boy, wanting some input. Peter smiled shyly and nodded, Peter really didn’t know how to act now that his hero was his guardian, leaving them in sometimes very awkward situations.

“You have anywhere in mind?” 

Peter’s nose quirked in thought, body straightening when his spider-sense pinged; only for the car to be hit. Tony’s hand instantly flew over, pressing him back against the seat. Gunfire met their ears and, the doors were quickly being forced open. Before Peter could even process what had happened, both of them were being ripped from the vehicle.

The second Peter hit the asphalt, a gun fired and Peter gasped at the feeling of his skin tearing and the breath escaping him. The release of air left the world in a blur, blocking out the sound of Tony absolutely roaring.

The teen let his head rest on the road, eyes wide before an almost cough escaped. Blood dribbling down his chin and onto the black scuffed terrain. It continued to flow, as an internal panic burned his chest. He couldn’t breathe.

The gunman had long since walked away,  bothering Tony he assumed. But no matter how much he wanted to scream for him, the tears he hadn’t known started choked him further. Shakily lifting his hands, the teen clawed at his throat just begging to breathe but he couldn’t pull anything in.

If he could see himself, he’d notice his lips turning blue and face growing pale. Blood gently stained that sickly fair skin, the places where the blood began to dry over his lips were purple. Peter watched as the already sideways world began to fade away. Eyes fluttering until they shut, tears leaking delicately down his cheeks.

\---

Tony looked down at Peter in the hospital bed, a breathing mask firmly resting over his face, along with a breathing tube shoved down his throat. The simple thing a horrid reminder that Peter had been shot in the lung and he hadn’t been able to do anything.

No matter how much the sight of how small and weak Peter looked in the bed, nothing would haunt him more than Peter bleeding unconscious not breathing with his lips so god damn blue he was sure they were ice. His skin had been deathly pale, he was a ghost against the midnight pavement.  Tony’s heart continued to ache at the memory. Pressing a kiss to the boy’s head, and gently taking Peter’s hand in his own his thumb gently running over soft knuckles, Tony frowned.

“You going to show me those eyes anytime soon?” Tony whispered, itching to see a real sign of life other than the green jumping line on the monitor and the rise and fall of the boy’s chest so obviously assisted.

Peter didn’t show his eyes for another two hours, blearily opening his eyes confused, and what Tony thought looked fearful looked around. The machine echoing his relief of breath when their eyes met, but Tony saw how quickly the teen’s eyes flickered to the bruises and scrapes lining his face and hands. Choking slightly when he couldn’t bring himself to talk around the tube, causing Tony to push his phone into boy’s hand to give him some real contact.

“Are you okay?” Peter typed out, trying to push himself up and burrow in the safest place he knew. Tony’s chest. The billionaire quickly noticed after the death of May and a little before that, Peter had some problems with physical affection, much like himself.  In any other circumstance, Peter simply couldn’t ask for affection, even when he needed it. But when hurt, Peter almost more defiant then normal ignored comfort unless it was given to which he absolutely drowned in it. 

Peter reaching out for affection had nearly cured Tony’s own problem because if Peter needed comfort he’d be damned if he didn’t get it. 

“Hey, where are you going?” Tony murmured, gently settling him back only for the boy to latch to his arm. 

“Are you okay?” The boy shoved the phone at him again, eyes welling with tears and god Tony had forgotten to answer the first time likely adding to the boy’s anxiety.

“I’m alright Pete, no need to cry,” The inventor crooned, wanting desperately to wipe the stray tear that ran down the boy’s cheek. Peter tried again to gently tug on the man’s arm, reaching out to pull himself up only to gasp in pain and let a few more tears rain. Tony made a shushing noise, now close enough to press a kiss to the boy’s forehead.

“Sit still buddy, I’m hopping up,” He decided, slipping his shoes, coat, and tie off before he realized moving Peter would likely upset the stitches and make breathing just a little harder. With a moment of hesitance, Tony crawled up behind the boy.

His legs on either side of him, so when Peter leaned back he was leaning into the older man’s chest. Tony’s arms gently wound around Peter’s middle to keep him steady as the bed gently came up to met his back and they settled.

Peter let out a hum of satisfaction, shimming ever so slightly, a little further down in the embrace before a yawn escaped. The movement displaced the mask ever so slightly only for Tony to adjust it to its rightful place.

“Go back to sleep Bambi,” he didn’t have to ask twice, Peter’s eyes had fallen shut as he fell into slumber. One Tony hoped was either dreamless or pleasant. It wouldn’t be odd for the boy to have a nightmare after this, for god sakes he’d been shot, but Tony knew he couldn’t save the boy from his nightmares. No matter how badly he wanted too. Often though he could wake the boy up. Sadly it’s not as if he knew every time the boy had a nightmare, or that Peter would tell him.

—

Tony woke the next morning to soft touches to his hand. Opening his eyes and peering down, Peter’s sleeping form has latched onto his right hand. Absent fingers twitching gently ever so often against his skin. 

“Coffee?” A soft baritone asked. Tony looked up then at the super soldier. Cap looked down worriedly at the boy but seemed rather pleased with the two’s position.

“Yeah,” he answered, voice rough with sleep. So much so he almost didn’t recognize himself.

The blond nodded, heading off to get just that as some of the team trickled in the doorway trying to peak at their youngest member.  Natasha simply walked in, taking one of the chairs that sat against the wall and pulling it closer to the bed before she took a seat.

“Should I be worried as if to why the spiders seem to stick pretty close together?” Tony asked, playing with the boy’s twitching fingers and itching for his promised coffee.

“You’re the one holding him,” Nat hummed with a raised brow, only for Rhodey to step in with a fond retort.

“That’s because that little spiders his,” Tony agreed with the statement but didn’t say anything. He’d never felt the need to, and hadn’t brought it up around the Avengers in case now that Peter lived with him he’d be uncomfortable somehow.  He couldn’t do that to the boy, not so soon after May.  

Rhodey carefully moved the boy’s bangs out of the child’s sleeping face before stepping out to take a picture of the two. Tony’s not so convincing struggle to duck only made the photo better because you could still see the man’s smile even with his head turned.

“That’s a keeper,” he hummed, sending it in the group chat. A plethora of awes coming from the outside hall, mainly from Scott and Clint. Steve stepped in then, coffee in hand, the rest of the team following him in quietly and stealing the chairs against the wall. Clint dragging a chair so he was opposite of Natasha and stuck his feet up on the corner of the mattress.

Tony gave a glare at that, but the archer ignored it. Tony took the offered cup from Steve with a nod, before noticing his phone, Peter’s messages still clear. Reminding him that Peter would need his own phone to communicate, “Could someone find his phone?”

Bruce who’d been investigating what drugs they were using to help the pain, nodded. The scientist was tired, he’d worked effortlessly to put together a drug that could keep Peter down and help his pain but even now he didn’t know if it worked.

—

When Peter woke again, looking to ask a question his phone was slid into his hand. Peter craning his head up to look at Tony before back at his phone, typing…..”TV?”  Tony smiled, reaching over to grab it off the counter but Wanda gently lifted it straight into his palm.

Tony handed it over, noticing Peter’s hand weakly shaking at the weight of the remote before he helped hold it. Peter turned the TV on, channel surfing until he found something suitable. Animal Planet.  Peter paid rapt attention with nothing else to do, pleased the episode contained animals in a way, adopting other animals. It was the one Peter had fallen asleep before that riled the Avengers up.

“It’s you Tony, except you’d have killed the bitch before they could kill Peter,” Sam laughed, watching as the mother lioness cried out distraught as the gazelle she’d miraculously fostered had left her sight for just a second before a male lion snatched the poor thing up.

Tony held Peter just a bit tighter at the comparison, flipping the channel button so something else would come on. Not wanting to hear the distraught cries of the mother lion mourning her pseudo cub. The teenager didn’t react, sleeping on and seeming quite pleased even in sleep to simply be held.

Natasha glared over at the Falcon, the man wasn’t the biggest fan of Spidey. Their first meeting hadn’t exactly gone well...needless to say, the kid kicked his ass. 

Tony finished his coffee, setting it on the table. Unable to get the damn image of the lion taking the small defenseless gazelle into its mouth and crunching its bones, and then suddenly it was the damn image of Peter lying on the asphalt and the sound of gunfire. He quickly found purchase when he realized the others were staring.

“You have him, Tony,” Steve spoke up, earning nods of agreement.

“I should have killed them,” Tony whispered,

“Still can,” Clint spoke up earning a swat to the head by Bruce. 

Thor who’d been relatively quiet for once finally spoke up, “I don’t believe Peter would approve,”   Tony’s shoulders dropped at that, fingers coming up to run through the boy’s hair.

“No, I know he wouldn’t,” The billionaire whispered. Leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to the kids head absently, before burying his face in the light brown locks.

—-

Tony woke at the sharp movement of an elbow hitting him in the ribs, the sound of Peter choking instantly bringing him out of the pain as he looked down. Noticing Peter’s eyes still shut, the monitor picking up a spike but seemed to stay between unconscious levels.

Steve was already standing carefully trying to get the two back down, let Peter’s sleeping body readjustment to just breathing with the tube. He’d gotten a pretty hard punch to the arm for it, but eventually, the boy fell back almost limply into Tony’s hold. The others had cleared out, Bruce rushing in at the slight commotion.

“Nightmare,” Tony explained, using his fingertips to smooth out the furrowed creases of worry on the spider’s face. Assurances falling from his lips before he knew it, “You’re alright Peter Pan, no need for tears,” his thumb quickly wiped away the stubborn droplets in the corner of the boy’s closed lids.

They were likely from lack of breath if anything, but he couldn’t chance it. Wouldn’t.

“You alright?” Steve finally spoke up, Tony hadn’t noticed the soldiers tight shoulders or worry clouded eyes.  The inventors head tilted until he noticed, along with the sleeves of Steve’s always to tight shirt was a forming bruise when only moments before Peter had elbowed him in the gut.

A dull ache resided, but otherwise, he knew he was alright. 

“Yeah Cap, I’m good,”

Bruce who’d been speculating had to move forward, Tony begrudgingly lifting his shirt ever so slightly only to see a small bruise forming. When Bruce checked to make sure nothing was broken he made a sound of contempt.

Just a bruise.

—-

Peter wriggled to wakefulness a few hours later, stilling when he realized Tony was asleep. Steve looked up from his chair, smiling softly at the boy.

“Morning Peter,”  Peter would have replied but he really couldn’t.

“Can I get you anything?” Peter shook his head, he couldn’t exactly eat anything anyway, and he was pretty damn comfy in Tony’s arms. Until he realized, Tony might not be comfy. 

“He’s alright you know?” Steve hummed, seemingly able to read his thoughts.

Reaching for his phone, Peter poked at his keyboard with a finger, “Comfy?” Before looking back at Tony. Steve followed his gaze, smiling in understanding.

“I think he’s alright, just as long as you’re here,” Peter practically purred at the statement, blush instantly rising to his cheeks causing him to duck his head. Lightly jutting the mask and causing a choke to emit, Steve stood then but the small noise was enough to wake the sleeping man.  Peter was quick to wave them off, taking bigger breaths until he calmed, Tony’s eyes were wide but blurred with sleep. Rapidly blinking to wake himself further to keep Peter company.

But Peter only pushed him back down, pretending to go back to bed too. Tony let out a yawn, arms fastening around the boy’s upper chest in a hug before he fell back into slumber. Peter’s brow peaked, looking up at Steve.

“He needs some sleep,” Steve grinned, knowing Peter’s little act meant he felt the same way. 

“He seemed tired, I don’t like when he doesn’t sleep,” Peter typed out, showing the first Avenger.

“I don’t either,” Steve admitted, patting the boy’s leg softly. Tony stirred slightly, grip tightening on the boy, but the two only smiled.

Bruce’s earlier concerns came to Steve’s mind at the action, “Does it hurt?”

Peter looked down shyly at that, giving a nod.

“But Bruce’s-”

“Nothing ever works, but the pains easier to ignore with Tony here,” Peter’s phone read.

“Medicine doesn’t always work on me either, sometimes a high enough-well calculated dose can work. But with your metabolism…” Peter nodded at that, settling his hands over Tony’s.

“Maybe you should get some more sleep too,” Steve suggested then, but the boy refused with a shake of his head. 

“Was it because of the nightmare?” Steve whispered, and the look Peter gave displayed his shock.

Eyes expressing his question, ‘How did you know?’ Until Peter noticed the fading bruise on the man’s arm he hadn’t had before. Peter knew then, eyes quickly filling up with tears. Mouth trying to apologize only to choke again. Steve wished that tube could be removed.

Tony who was awake for good now, patted his back and looked to Steve as if to ask what the hell happened, why was Peter crying?

“He saw the bruise,” Steve explained, Tony sighed, kissing Peter’s temple and humming.

“It’s alright Bambi, you were asleep. Steve’s okay,” The boy didn’t seem appeased at this, his shifting hip lightly bumping the bruise he’d left on Tony. His reaction was small, so very small that any normal person wouldn't have noticed at all. But no normal person could actively hear someone's heartbeat if they tried hard enough.

Peter practically seized in his attempt to get away, too afraid of hurting them. It took both their strength and Peter’s weakness during his coughing fest to bring him down. Where he promptly fell asleep, face pale with sweat sticking to his temples.

“Oh sweetheart,” Tony murmured brokenly, “We’ll be okay,”

\---

“Why don’t we go out?” Tony asked, Peter had healed up nicely but had been confined to the compound. Those few words, instantly set Peter into a fit of panic. Shaking his head no, knowing the last time they tried going out to eat he got shot. The old wound stung unconsciously causing him to itch his chest lightly with his sleeve.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. We can stay in sweetheart,” Tony promised, hugging the teen to his chest. Peter nodded rapidly against the man’s heart, brokenly purring as Tony ran a hand through his hair in comfort, hiccuping on his tears.

“Deep breaths kiddo, deep breaths,”


End file.
